Defied Traditions Wake
by Zyllion
Summary: Seventh year fic in Harry's time. After defeating Voldemort so many times in his past, he makes Voldemort think that he has seen the so-called error of his ways. He might’ve sided with Voldemort beginning the worlds scariest reign of terror, or is he fo


Disclaimer: All characters at this point belong to JKR, and although I definitely wish it were mine, it isn't. At this point the only thing belonging to me is the plot.  
  
Harry awoke on the morning of his birthday gloomy and depressed. The remnants of his dream still lingered in his head, and he found himself wishing that he was still asleep. His aunt and uncle, before sending him to bed had shown him the list of chores that he had to get done before some important director was to come over. Much like his second year. He glanced at the clock and groaned as he realized that it read 6:59. As it clicked to the seven, Petunia's voice came up the stairs, "Boy, get your lazy self down here right now."  
  
Harry shook himself awake, and after pulling on some clothing, strolled down the stairs. He had grown taller over the years, and was now taller than his uncle, although he was still quite a bit skinnier than his whale of a cousin. His uncle and cousin were already seated at the table, although Dudley's chair looked like it was about to collapse. He still wondered why it hadn't yet.  
  
Breakfast was the calm orderly affair that it usually was. Vernon ignored him for most of the meal, with the sole exception being the five minutes when he yelled at him to fix his untidy hair. Then Harry had gotten up, and walked out into the garden to start his chores; weeding being the first and foremost on the list.  
  
The weeding itself took only around an hour when he was making an effort, but it was a beautiful day, and he was in no hurry. In other words, he didn't finish the weeding until lunchtime.  
  
Harry got up, and walked inside the house, taking off his shoes first, as he wasn't sure he wanted to be yelled at any more than necessary. Then he went upstairs to wash up. And found his wand sitting on his bed.  
  
He stared at the wand. It definitely shouldn't have been out, and he knew for a fact that he had hidden under the floorboards. Confused, he picked it up, and held it loosely in his hands. He stared off into space absentmindedly, then jerked back with a start.  
  
Two and two always equals four, he realized. And if that's true, then that means that on my seventeenth birthday, I am a fully qualified wizard. In other words today. He grinned at the thought.  
  
Grinning maniacally, Harry magically packed his trunk. He carried down all of the stairs, and waited for his aunt and uncle to come and investigate.  
  
Only about twenty seconds passed before Dudley was standing right in front of him, mouth agape, and clearly afraid. "Dad. He's doing that m-m-m-magic stuff again."  
  
"WHAT!" Vernon's livid face appeared in the doorway. "Boy, you know you're not allowed to do that - that stuff - outside of your school."  
  
"Actually, you're wrong."  
  
"Don't tell me I'm wrong. I've fed you and clothed you for years, and this is how you repay me. I know that you are not allowed to do ma - stuff - outside of that school of yours."  
  
"No. We're not allowed to do it until we're seventeen. Don't tell me you've forgotten."  
  
Vernon Dursley, would have loved to proudly claim that they were normal, but when faced with a nephew who was definitely not normal, and obviously had his hackles raised, there was only one thing to do; run.  
  
Dudley, and Vernon Dursley turned and thundered - or waddled in Dudley's case - to the safety of Petunia and Vernon's room. Petunia joined them seconds later, and an audible click was heard of the lock.  
  
Harry grinned evilly, then called out, "You do know that one of the simplest and earliest spells we learned at Hogwarts was how to unlock doors, don't you?"  
  
That was when he heard the frightened response, "Leave us alone, boy, I have my gun here, and I'm not afraid to use it."  
  
Shaking his head in both disdain and silent mirth he walked out the front door, levitating his trunk in front of him. He raised his wand, and the bus was there in front of him.  
  
Minutes later, he was standing in front of the Weasley house. His anger at his only relatives was beginning to subside and he was looking forward to a much more fun summer. It was all he could do to not laugh at the image on Ron's face when he found out about Harry's unexpected arrival. Or better yet, Ginny's reaction. 


End file.
